


Coffee

by LeannieBananie



Series: A Madness Made for Two [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Almost Kiss, Coffee, Drug Use, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, Pre-Relationship, Recreational Drug Use, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 09:53:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5452409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeannieBananie/pseuds/LeannieBananie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jo misses coffee, so Hancock is disgustingly adorable and gets some for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, I'm still alive! Sorry for disappearing on you, vacations and all that. Anyway, this was meant to be a _Junk_ part 2 since I had some requests and I swear guys, I had an outline and everything and then I started writing and _this_ happened. I don't think it fits with _Junk_ anymore though, so you get another one-shot thingy.
> 
> Also I'm kind of frustrated with it, as it seems like everything I write goes all angsty on me and it's irritating. Also I wasn't super happy with Hancock in this one, I just couldn't get him right from paragraph to paragraph, but I think I've been staring at it for too long and we're our own worst critics.
> 
> Let me know what you think and shout it out if you see any mistakes. Kudos and comments are squeed over (I have no idea how comment etiquette works so I try to reply to a random selection.)
> 
> Oh and last but not least, everyone who has commented or liked my recent works gets a massively huge, heartfelt thank you! It's greatly appreciated and I love all the feed back. *blushes like crazy* :D So thanks!!

“I would kill for a cup of coffee.” Jo groaned as she heaved herself up off the filthy mattress. Her hair had come free from her pony tail and was tangled wildly around her head. She looked exhausted, with heavy bags beneath her eyes and underneath the dirt she had an unhealthy pallor. She looked a mess, but Hancock couldn’t look away. 

Even tired and grimy she was captivating. All soft pre-war, vault-born curves and smooth skin that the Commonwealth was determined to ruin. Lack of food and exposure to radiation left a lot of citizens rather scrawny for his taste, he missed a good set of hips and ass to grab on to; Jo still had both. She had been out of the vault and fighting long enough to replace some of her softness with muscle, but she still had a body that was rounded, lush, and delicious. Because he made it his job to notice things like that. 

So he stayed where he was, sprawled on a mattress next to hers blatantly admiring her ass from his superior angle on the ground. She was bent over digging through her sleeping bag for her hair tie and all her squirming was a visual delight. He grinned widely and propped up his head, not really listening to her absent chatter, more focused on how her tight jeans hugged the curves of her body. 

“Aha!” Triumphantly she held up the little elastic band and began the process of scraping back her hair, baring the shaved sides and smoothing everything down. “What’s with that grin?” She asked, settling back down and pulling out her Mentat tin. 

“Just another beautiful sunshiney day in the Commonwealth.” He drawled, flopping back down as well. Hancock enjoyed her look of concentration as she sorted through the various flavors to find a grape one. She loved the grape ones. 

They usually kept their recreational chem use to a minimum while on the road, because they needed their wits about them, but they both considered Mentats to be more like a candy than a chem and used them regularly. His eyes tracked the motion of her hand as she plopped the little purple tablet on her waiting tongue and then swallowed thickly when that tongue eagerly wrapped around it and pulled it between her rounded lips. 

_Shit. No. Bad Hancock._

He mentally reprimanded himself, tearing his eyes away but it was too late. His brain was already supplying him with a steady flow of fantastically detailed images of that tongue and those lips wrapped around something much bigger than a Mentat. Of Jo on her knees, under his desk in Goodneighbor and his hand wrapped around that half ponytail she had. 

He let out a quiet hum of pleasure at that image. 

_Oh fuck yes._

“You alright over there?” His eyes shot open and he flinched when he met her questioning eyes. He awkwardly cleared his throat and nodded. She still eyed him dubiously, so he took the tin she had offered quietly in an attempt to distract her. He definitely didn’t want to have to explain himself. 

“Yeah. So coffee, what’s that?” Her eyes grew wide with disbelief and she groaned. 

“Oh Hancock, it’s amazing. You’d love it.” 

“Is it a chem?” She let out a loud laugh, probably too loud for their surroundings, but she was like that sometimes. Loud and vibrant; a surprising bright spot in an otherwise dreary world. She had been a bit of a shock to Hancock’s system, snapping him out of autopilot the instant she stepped foot into Goodneighbor and forcing his heart to start pumping again. He was drawn to her, like so many other people were, but that was a thought he shied away from, unwilling to delve into his feelings with her sitting two feet away. Thankfully she continued her explanation, which saved him from giving away more than he wanted. 

“No it’s a drink, but it’s addicting and delicious. They used to import beans and you grind them up and pour hot water over them. It’s kind of like tea, only better.” She was excited, waving her hands about as she apparently demonstrated the process of making coffee. He scrunched his brow, raising an eyebrow he no longer had in amusement. 

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” She laughed and tossed his tricorn at his head. 

“I forget how _young_ you are.” She teased. 

“Young my ass.” He retorted, sitting up enough to properly place the hat on his head, comforted by the familiar feeling of it on his head and her happy smile directed towards him. 

“Anyway, you pour hot water over the grounds and then let it steep, so the water takes on the flavor of the beans. It sounds weird, but it’s absolutely amazing. It’s one of the things I miss the most about before–” She stopped abruptly and looked away, her smile falling and Hancock hated to see how the guilt dampened her expression and left her gray and quiet. 

She might be reserved when it came to discussing Nate and Shaun, but he knew that her love of _this_ life was twisted around a large dose of guilt and anxiety over her past. He might be a chem-head and a ghoul, but it would take an idiot to miss that and an idiot he was not. It might have been over 200 years ago to everyone else, but to her it was still raw and new and it had to be some seriously tough shit to manage every day. He didn’t envy her situation, but he couldn’t regret what she had gone through to be here. 

Before he knew what he was doing he had grasped her cool hand in his wrecked one. He fingers wrapped around his and tightened, the pressure bordering on pain, but he stayed silent and relished the contact even as Jo lost her composure. She refused to meet his eyes and he pretended not to see the steady flow of tears trailing down her cheeks, tracking through some of the dirt to reveal the sunburnt skin underneath. 

“It’ll be alright Jo.” She sucked in a sharp breath at her name off his lips. He didn’t say it very often, but it seemed more than right to use it now. “I’ve got you.” It was more true and intimate than he had intended, but he refused to take it back even though it scared the absolute shit out of him. He’d always have her, until she didn’t want him around anymore. The thought of her casting him aside hurt, but not as much as the terrifying realization that this was more than lust. This was a want –a need– to be near her, to care for her, to share her laughter and dry her tears. What the fuck was he even doing? 

He didn’t know, but he did know that he wanted to be here for her and that he cared. Which was as alarming as realizing he liked more than just her ass, because he hadn’t felt like this about _anyone_ in a very long time. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, so he rolled it around in his mind like he did Mentats in his mouth, then decided to set it aside when she let out a particularly choked sob, wiping at her eyes and nose. 

Slowly she withdrew her hand from his and gave her head a quick shake and let out a strained laugh. 

“God I’m so sorry. I have no idea where that came from.” 

“Don’t stress about it, we’re all good.” He reassured her, watching silently as she vigorously scrubbed away any trace of the tears on her face, leaving her already sunburnt face even more pink and her eyes glassy and red. They quietly gathered up their things and as they left their temporary shelter, he cast a smirk at her, 

“So coffee, huh?” 

. 

. 

Hancock watched Jo slip through the busted diner door and waited to make sure she wasn’t coming back in before rushing to the kitchen. He clambered over the rubble of the collapsed ceiling and dug through the cupboards and shelves, moving as quickly as possible to avoid detection. They had already combed through the house and gathered anything of value –or so Jo had thought– but there, tucked into a shelf by the register, battered and dented and slightly rusted was a small coffee can with a dusty red lid. 

With a victorious grin he knelt behind the counter and grabbed the can, hastily prying open the lid. He was elated to see a fair amount of grounds lingering in the bottom of the can. This was pretty much the jack pot of coffee finds and he thought he would finally have enough now. 

In the subsequent weeks since their emotionally charged discussion about coffee, Hancock had been collecting coffee grounds. The stuff was basically junk and it would have amused Jo to know he had become the hoarder in their relationship. The idea came to him as they looted another house of its pre-war items, where he had found a tin of coffee in the kitchen. Its peeling label declared it for what it was and when he had opened it there had been the barest trace of grounds in it. In every following house, diner, or restaurant he had volunteered to clean out the kitchen and gathered any amount of coffee he could find, even if it was only the tiniest amount, because every little bit helped. 

Though if he were honest with himself he had no idea what the fuck he was doing. He was constantly telling himself that it was just a friendly gesture between _friends_ , but he couldn’t help the flicker of excitement he felt whenever he found more coffee, hoping she would be as excited about it as he hoped. He felt giddy, like a fucking school girl mooning over her first crush. He shook his head in disgust and crammed his most recent find into his rucksack just as Jo poked her head through a shattered window with a quizzical expression on her face. 

“You get lost in here?” He quickly buckled his bag and grabbed his shotgun, trying to act nonchalant before looking up at her, but he was hopelessly dazzled by her smile. He _was_ a fucking school girl. 

“Sorry. Mentat break.” He explained with a quick grin. She smiled playfully back and then held out her hand expectantly. 

“Where’s mine?” He fumbled the tin out of his pocket and tossed it too her, looking away from the hypnotizing and highly seductive way in which she chose and consumed her Mentats. Or at least it seduced him, which was another solid indication of his lovesick school girl status. 

“So we’re about a half day’s walk from The Slog. If we push we can get there around midnight.” She mused as she toyed with her Pip-Boy. “We could use some more supplies and a good week’s worth of sleep. What do you think?” They had started walking, skirting around the outside of whatever town they were near. 

“Finch Farm is closer.” 

“I’d prefer to go to The Slog. The Finch’s don’t have a lot of extra room as is and I want a bed. I want a bed with a matress, not a sleeping bag on the floor or out under the mutfruit.” He chuckled dryly. 

“I can respect that, The Slog it is.” 

. 

. 

Wiseman greeted them from his guard tower with a hushed hello, before clambering down and telling them where their beds were. 

“We’ll catch up in the morning.” He said, before waving them towards the hall. He was already in position by the time they turned their backs. Jo liked Wiseman; he was smart, well-respected, and an ambassador of sorts for the ghouls of this area. She also appreciated his straightforward approach to everything, which meant that they got to rest before tackling the myriad of tasks that inevitably built up between visits. 

Eagerly Hancock led them into the building, which was quiet this late at night, except for one settler who lounged near the back door staring out into the Commonwealth, rifle cradled across his lap. They had a pair of beds tucked into the back corner, partitioned off by utility shelves filled with boxes of parts odds and ends. It wasn’t fancy, but it offered a modicum of privacy as they peeled off their gear and collapsed onto the beds. 

Hancock immediately lay back and took a quick hit of Jet, letting out a huge sigh of contentment as the chem crashed over him. They were exhausted and the drug tended to make him a little dizzy when he was this tired. Tonight was no exception and he giggled – _giggled_ for fucks sake– rolling over onto his side to look at Jo, a reckless smirk on his lips. She laughed softly at whatever she saw in his face, before reaching out to snatch his canister of Jet. Watching her administer chems, from Med-X to Mentats to Jet was something close to a religious experience for him. 

She was so fucking passionate about everything in life and watching her inhale the Jet, placing her lips where his had been only minutes before made him want to drag her into his arms like a damn caveman and kiss her till she was high on him. Instead he simply watched as she closed her eyes, an expression of ecstasy on her face and inhaled. Almost immediately she slumped into the bed, every muscle and nerve relaxed as the drug coursed through her. Damn she was hot. 

“Hey Jo.” He whispered. Her eyes opened slowly and he giggled again when he saw how unfocused and dilated her brown eyes where. She mock frowned and lobbed her pillow at him. Her motions were as hazy as her eyes and the pillow fell far short, landing on the ground. This time she laughed with him, both of them a wired and exhausted, a combination that was making them slaphappy and lightheaded. He felt that reckless surge again and sluggishly sat up, fumbling with the buckles on his bag. “I have something for you.” 

“A present?” The delight and surprise in her voice made his heart race and he felt unaccountably nervous. _It’s just coffee Hancock._ He reassured himself, cradling the half full tin in his hands, still hidden in the depths of his rucksack. “What is it?” She sat impatiently on her bed, the springs protesting loudly when she leaned forward to try and peek. 

Jo watched Hancock and decided he looked nervous, which was crazy, because Hancock was never nervous. Not when he had stabbed Finn, or when they fought super mutants, or even when he stitched her arm up that once. _Never._ So to see him bit his bottom lip a little and shift his enigmatic eyes from whatever was in his hands to her face was weird. And cute. Chems had the tendency to make her talkative and she bit her own hard to prevent that telltale comment from slipping past, though it wouldn’t be the first time it had happened. She had it so bad and sometimes she couldn’t even be bothered to hide it, even though the only reason she hid it at all was because of her misplaced guilt over Nate and the fact that she wasn’t sure if Hancock liked anything other than her ass. 

“It’s nothing, I just thought you’d like it.” Quickly he thrust whatever it was at her and she took it instinctively, feeling the weight of it and the scratchy rust of metal. She tilted it back and tried to make sense of the faded label in the poor light before giving up and turning on her Pip-Boy. Cast in a neon green light were the words Coffee, the bold script nearly indecipherable, but it was there. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t have. She hadn’t seen coffee since before Vault 111 and had assumed it was gone. No trader had it, not even Daisy and she had everything. 

Jo held her breath and with trembling hands peeled up part of the lid and let out a gasp of surprise. It wasn’t a large can, but it was half full of coffee grounds that were probably stale and irradiated as all hell, but they still held that pungent aroma, faint though it was and as it wafted towards her nose, her eyes began to burn with unshed tears. 

“Oh Hancock.” She breathed, staring at the rusted tin of wonders in her hands. She was overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness and compassion of his gift. That he should remember their conversation and do _this_. It must have taken him weeks to gather sufficient grounds, which explained why he was always so eager to sort through the kitchens. And here she had assumed he was keeping the sweets for himself. Jo let out a breathless laugh and finally looked up at him. His face was so carefully expressionless that she knew he was going to try and brush it off as nothing. 

“Hancock, this is– I can’t tell you how much this means to me.” 

“It’s nothing.” He repeated, waving it off with a weathered hand. Jo caught that hand and ignoring his look of surprise –before she could change her mind or he could pull back– she pressed a warm kiss to his sinewy cheek. She pulled back slowly and saw that he looked a little shell-shocked. His eyes were wide and blank, from the Jet or her kiss she didn’t know, but he looked more dazed than usual. 

“Sorry,” She mumbled in embarrassment. “I just– thank you.” She finished lamely, settling back into her bed and pulling the blankets up to her chin. _Way to just invade his personal space Jo,_ she thought dryly, staring firmly at the coffee tin on the night stand, still deeply touched by his gesture. He was so silent and sat there for so long that against her will and the Jet, she finally fell asleep. 

Hancock however, didn’t fall asleep until the early hours of the morning. No, he sat there pathetically reliving that five second span of time where Jo had placed her sweet, pink lips on his scarred skin. It had been a surprise, but not an unwelcome one, especially not considering his thoughts of late, but instead of saying so he had been shocked and a little unnerved by her sudden display of affection. Her brief innocent kiss had touched a part of his heart, loosening something tight inside and making it harder to breath, but it didn’t really matter. It had been a simple thank you kiss, nothing for him to get worked up over right? It didn’t mean anything. 

They were just friends right?

**Author's Note:**

> On a side note, does anyone who wanted a part 2 have any suggestion, prompt-thingies for a _Junk_ part 2? My brain isn't cooperating.


End file.
